A/N: Well, this one's another SpaMano, although Spain barely has any dialogue in it, and it's mainly Romano doing his stuff. So I hope you guys enjoy this one! Please review afterwards, I'd like to know what you think. Thanks to all those who kindly reviewed for the previous ones! Usual warnings would be Romano's not-so-child-friendly mouth.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I never did. I'm just another one of those fans who can only dedicate silly fanfiction.
Romano huffed angrily as he made his way through the crowd. Stupid Spain! Why did he agree to watch the jerk perform in a bullfight? This wasn't even one of those officially planned events. Really, Spain was not using his head enough. A mixed throng of both nations and ordinary humans were crowding the corralled field that was to be the arena. The bastard hadn't planned anything right after all! If he remembered correctly though, it wasn't entirely the tomato bastard's fault.
In fact, Romano wanted to bite America's head off right now for suggesting a bullfight-rodeo sort of event for both fund-raising and amusement purposes. And although there were a several objections (mainly from England), in the end the stupid jerk happily threw himself in front and volunteered to be the event's matador. America better be included in that bronco-busting part of the show or he was kicking that jerk's ass himself, England be damned! And why did they let America decide where to hold the event? A fucking football field, seriously?
At least America's suggestion seemed to have some good results. The crowds just continued pouring in. Several other nations mingled with the cacophonous throng, and Romano could faintly make out his fratello on one side, waving a white flag in his hand. He could see the damned potato bastard stick way too close to his fratello, but he was too far away to hurl something at the bastard's face though. And he had run out of tomatoes too.
He could see America in full cowboy outfit in the distance with England yelling heatedly at him. Good. Someone needed to berate the jerk or else his head would completely fill up with hamburgers later on. Scanning the crowd slowly entering the main gate, he identified other nations who came. At least it wasn't the entire world coming to watch such an impromptu event! Romano doubted he'd allow anyone to see bastard Spain make a fool out of himself, but the entire idea was America's so he'd have no qualms laughing his ass off if ever the hamburger bastard fell off his horse. Spain was nowhere to be seen yet, he was probably somewhere else and taking his time changing into his outfit.
Romano huffed and he mentally slapped himself. No thinking of that jerk Spain in those tight pants! No thinking of bastard Spain wearing red and gold and shaking his- Romano stifled a scream, quite frustrated that he had allowed his thoughts to wander into such deep and dangerous territory in record time. Argh! Damn it all. Even when that tomato bastard wasn't around, Romano's imagination was fully activated! He took a deep breath and pushed his traitorous thoughts into the deepest, darkest corner of his mind. No more thinking about that bastard, damn it!
Pushing his way against the other people trying to gain entrance, he finally made it nearer to the gate when a firm hand stopped him. He shot a withering glare at the man and snapped, "What the fucking hell do you want?" "You need to pay an entrance fee to watch this event, sir. Also, I have orders that no minors are allowed without a guardian." Fucking hell. Was this crazy jerk blind? Did he look like a minor? Hell, he was way older than any of them, if only they knew! And what was that about a guardian, eh? He didn't need a chaperon for this stupid crap. This event wasn't even one of those formally celebrated ones which drew even bigger crowds. The people here would merely be curious onlookers who probably had never seen bullfighting and rodeos in their entire lives!
Then how the hell did his fratello, who was way more childish than he was, get in already? His mind backpedaled to the scene earlier and he groaned. Potato bastard probably got him in by passing off as the supposed guardian. If his fratello needed protecting from anyone, it certainly was from that fucking potato bastard. Then how the hell was he supposed to get in now? He forgot to take some money along with him, and fucking hell, did they charge so expensively (probably America's silly idea again, or maybe it was his slightly convincing advertisements of the event).
Annoyed and insulted, Romano walked off to the side and glared. He stayed there without moving an inch, glaring at the people who were allowed entry. By now he could hear the excited shouts and the announcer's voice over the loudspeaker that the rodeo would be starting in a few minutes. Damn it. He wanted to see America get thrown out of his horse, even for a minute, and it would be enough. But the fucking guard at the gate wouldn't let him in. heck, he even let in that perverted wine bastard France and that annoying potato bastard #2 inside! Why couldn't he be allowed entry? If Spain's equally stupid friends could get in, why couldn't he when he was supposedly the tomato bastard's henchman?
As Romano watched the throng begin to thin out, some entering, some leaving to buy some snacks, he cursed his luck. Then he saw it. Two men had some horses along with them, obviously part of the rodeo show. Then a third lagged behind yelling excitedly about something, that Romano had to draw closer to hear. To his shock, the guards let them in without even asking for a fee. This set his brain to work.
If those men who brought those animals got in for free, perhaps if he brought his own then he would be granted entry. A devilish smirk made its way across his face. He would get in. and damn him if he didn't show up for bastard Spain. If the idiot won't get to see him at this stupid, pointless event he would probably cry a river and cling to Romano the following day. And Romano wanted to avoid that, especially if Spain clings to him in that-okay, so he wasn't going back there!
The guard glared at him as he confidently drew nearer. When he was about to slip past the wide open gate, the guard yelled at him to stop. "Hey! What do you think you're doing? What is that?"
Annoyed by the guard bitching on him again, Romano's temper snapped and he fixed the man a dark glare, "Well jerk, what do you think it is?" he retorted as he tried to push past. "I know what that animal is! But why a calf?" the guard asked, his tone incredulous as he stared at Romano.
The Italian rolled his eyes and tugged at the rope to goad the creature forward. "Duh! Can't you get any stupider? I swear you're even worse than that tomato bastard!" He forcefully pushed past the slightly surprised guard who was still sputtering and trying to string a comprehensible sentence.
Romano paused, grinning madly at the guard and at the rest of the people still waiting in a line. "The bull's in this bullfight, jerk! So I brought his calf for moral support!"
A/N: Crappy ending, yeah. Couldn't think straight anymore as I typed the final dialogues, too sleepy. Please review, I need moral support too!